


No Shortcut to a Dream

by Loyal Lotus (Mazy_Mythos)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, I'm posting something at 2am this time, M/M, Teenage Drama, Teenagers, figure skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:58:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9943145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mazy_Mythos/pseuds/Loyal%20Lotus
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki had seen many disastrous senior debuts, some so awful that the skaters never returned to the ice, but there was something about this one. Somehow, unbeknownst to him, through some drunken mistake Yuuri finds himself coaching this mess of a newly christened senior men's skater, a Russian by the name of Viktor Nikiforov. There was something new about him, something that Yuuri found different and wanted to reveal to those that underestimated the kid, something that he wanted to reveal to Viktor himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So a few notes before you start reading.  
> This is part of a larger work and I just really wanted to test the waters with this snippet. If you like this, please show some sort of sign through feedback. It'll help me decide if I want to continue writing this, or if I should just continue writing snippets for myself.  
> Also, I messed with the ages a lot. Yuuri is maybe... 20? 21? Yurio is 18. Chris and Viktor are 15/16.  
> Title is from October by Broken Bells. Also, this was posted at 2 AM so if anything doesn't make sense, it'll make sense later on if I ever decide to really work on this. You could also just bother me on tumblr (stariose.tumblr.com) if you have any questions/want to discuss headcanons.

Yuuri knew he shouldn’t be watching what he was seeing. He sat in the observation deck and watched in amazement as the Russian kid that the world had underestimated threw himself into a series of perfectly placed jumps before a combo spin. He could hear the crazy energy of the music, the screaming of the opposing choirs and the swell of the orchestra underneath them before they quieted down.

Viktor slowed, gracefully swinging back and forth to the music until letting it die in complete silence.

Yuuri wanted to rush down to the ice, take his phone and restart the music just to watch the mess of a performance again.

The music switched to one Yuuri didn’t recognize and he settled back into his chair. Viktor didn’t care that much about this song, he skated a few laps around, probably trying to regain his breath after such ferocity of the last song. Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder where that had come from. Had he planned that piece for a program before? Or was it just…improvised?

The fact that Viktor could perform something so intense with little to no preparation terrified him. Yuuri had seen skaters push themselves over the edge before, he had seen them crumble at competitions because of the toll they had put on their bodies. He decided that if anything, his goal as a coach would be to stop that from happening to Viktor.

He closed his eyes for a moment, blocking out the sound of the pop music. He tried to think back to Viktor’s performance that the Grand Prix. He had chosen Bach’s Aria, or at least someone had chosen it for him. Yuuri had no idea how anyone was supposed to skate to such a piece, there was no movement, no emotion to it. The piece was stale, and with Viktor’s nerves… it wasn’t only self-sabotage, it was just overall… awful.

He needed to make Viktor feel something. He needed to find something, probably not a piece as powerful as Dies Irae that he had just skated to, no, he wanted to find something that purely was Viktor, something that he could win with. He’d have to have Viktor pick it out himself, something that he connected with rather than whatever his coaches thought he connected to because that obviously wasn’t working.

Yuuri opened his eyes and checked at his phone, it was only a little past noon. He wondered how long Viktor had been going at this, he had left the bath house before Yuuri had gotten up and disappeared to the rink. He wondered if Viktor forgot that they were going to train together later in the afternoon.

He grabbed his bag from the chair beside him and walked out through the back entrance of the observation deck. He looped around and walked down the stairs to the ice as though he hadn’t been spying on his student, in fact if Viktor asked he’d make up something about waking up only a while ago. He made his sweet time getting to the end of the stairs and the rink, standing at the boards and continuing to watch as Viktor skated.

Viktor didn’t even realize that Yuuri had showed up. He threw himself into a quad lutz, hitting the ice hard. He got back up, shook it off, and skated around a bit until he tried again, landing it nicely and skating off until he stopped mid-preparation. “Yuuri!” He said announced, stopping in front of the gate.

“Hey, don’t let me stop you. Keep doing your thing.” Yuuri said with a slight smile, motioning for the Rusisan to return to his jumps.

Viktor gave a small nod and let himself build up to a jump so that it was perfectly placed in front of Yuuri. A flawless quad salchow.

Yuuri almost laughed. It was so much like his coaches to teach him that. The Russians always had a thing for performing right in front of the judges. Yuuri watched as Viktor continued after his jump without hesitance, simply following the music and spinning to it slightly before stopping abruptly on the ice.

Viktor skated back towards him, but didn’t meet his eyes. He reached for his phone and started messing with it, cutting the music and tapping at the screen with his thumbs.

“You heard it vibrate from way over there?” Yuuri asked as he laced up his skates.

Viktor shook his head. “I just had a feeling.” He set the phone back down and started to skate off again.

“Who have you been texting?” Yuuri asked, stepping onto the ice.

Viktor turned around before he could get far enough away from Yuuri. It was obvious that he hadn’t wanted to talk about it just by how he avoided Yuuri’s eyes. He turned around, “No one important.” He lied.

Yuuri hummed to himself, leaning against the barricade. “Is it… Chris? The Swiss skater?”

Viktor turned quickly, “No.” He lied, his face turning a slight shade of red. “It’s… Yuri. Russian Yuri.” He lied again and nervously took his hair tie out, letting his long locks free before tying his hair back up again.

Yuuri nodded, “So, have you thought about music for next year?”

Viktor shook his head, his fixed ponytail swung with the slight movement. “My coaches usually pick my music.”

“Do they choreograph it too?”

Viktor nodded, keeping the distance between them.

“What about your themes?”

“Those too.”

Yuuri bit his lip. He moved to where Viktor’s phone was and disconnected it from the speaker system. He set it back on the barricade, pretending that he didn’t seen a notification for a new text from Chris with a blue heart emoji beside his name. Yuuri turned the speakers off. “We’re going to practice in silence today.”

Viktor frowned. “Okay.”

“I want you to hear yourself breathe and think, and I want you to hear your blades.” Yuuri said simply, skating towards Viktor.

Almost on instinct, Viktor backed away only slightly to keep a large enough distance in between them.

“I want you to show me all of the quads you can do. Even the ones that you don’t usually land.”

Viktor turned away and started to skate around the edge of the ice, building up before a quad salchow, he only wobbled slightly when landing.

Yuuri watched as he performed a flawless quad toe loop. Next a quad flip. Viktor took a moment to regain his breath before a quad lutz, then a quad loop that he nearly fell on. Yuuri was just about to stop him when he attempted another quad that nearly floored Yuuri in surprise.

Viktor fell out of the attempted quad axel, hitting the ice hard. He took a moment to collect himself and Yuuri nearly had a heart attack until he sat up and rubbed at his wrist from when he had reached out to the ice to break his fall. He stood up and skated back towards Yuuri, his eyes down focused on the ice.

“Did you just…”

“Yeah.” He said with a smile, his hand still on his wrist until he let his hands fall to his sides.

Yuuri gave a small nod, still in shock. How had he even come so close to landing it? “How come you only did the toe loop at the Grand Prix?”

Viktor turned away, “I messed up.”

“Hey, no. I watched your free program with the commentary, and even the commentators said that it was your only quad.” Yuuri wanted to skate closer, to grab his arms and to make him face this. “I have anxiety too, especially when it comes to performances. My senior debut was so bad I was going to quit, but then I decided to stick to what I was comfortable with. I decided to do me, not Plushenko, not Yagudin.” He saw Viktor’s shoulders tense at the mention of Plushenko and Yagudin.

He couldn’t imagine the pressure that had been engrained in him by his coaches… Yuuri had been lucky, his American coach didn’t care that much about Japanese figure skating specifically. Russian figure skating was the portrayal of Russian pride and Russian beauty. Everything was expected to be flawless.

“Look, why don’t we just… focus on finding music. I think you’ve practiced enough on your own for today.” Yuuri said with a slight smile. He kind of wanted the ice to himself, just for a bit. He needed to mull over this and he didn’t know any other way.

“You can go, if you want. I want to practice some more.”

“How long have you been here?”

Viktor was just about to take off when Yuuri grabbed his wrist and he cringed at the feeling. “Don’t.” He took his hand back.

Yuuri let go, “Did you hurt yourself when you tried to land that quad axel?” He asked, skating in a little closer and reaching out for Viktor’s hand.

“I’m fine—,”

“Is it the same wrist as last season?”

Viktor was quiet and skated past Yuuri to gate. He stepped off the ice and grabbed his phone from the barricade, then his skate guards. He clicked on one, then the other.

“Did I do something?” Yuuri asked, skating up to the gate and watching as Viktor pulled his red and white Russia jacket out from underneath Yuuri’s bag.

Viktor sighed, but the tension in his shoulders wasn’t released. “Can you make up your mind?” He asked, turning around quickly, his silver hair flowing in the movement. “Do you hate me, Yuuri Katsuki? Or do you want us to be friends? Or just… just what?” He asked.

“I don’t hate you.”

Viktor laughed, an honest laugh before turning away and walking back to the locker room, leaving Yuuri standing on the ice feeling like the biggest moron in the world.

Yuuri grumbled to himself, “‘Do you hate me, Yuuri Katsuki?’” He mocked in Viktor’s tone, attempting Viktor’s slight Russian accent and making himself chuckle. He turned back to the ice. He was never going to coach again. Especially a teenager.


End file.
